See You Again
by AWideWorldOfFanfics
Summary: Amelia Potter never had to want for much in life. She had loving parents and a built-in best friend in her twin brother, James. But when her life is wrecked, it isn't James who's there for her like usual. It's his best friend, Sirius Black. Sirius Black/ OC
1. Prologue: Inseparable

Inseparable

I loved my brother. There was no other way to put it. When we were younger, he had been my entire world. For eleven years, we had done everything together. We'd come into the world together and we decided to stay that way. Inseparable.

Until we weren't.

In our world, eleven is when your life begins. Age eleven is when all witches and wizards in Great Britain receive their letter of admission for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the week that led up to our eleventh birthday, James and I had waited not so patiently at the front door, just so we could open our letters as soon as they were dropped off.

The letters came two days before our birthday, twin pieces of parchment wrapped in twin envelopes. Twin letters for the twin children. We were one and the same, James and me. They should have saved the time and sent one letter addressed to the both of us.

It was better than Christmas and our birthday combined, receiving those letters. Our rushed hands had torn open the envelopes and we didn't bother ourselves with reading the letters. As if we had already accomplished some fantastic feat, we shoved our letters into the hands of our parents, weary-eyed and grey-haired. We set to planning our academic careers at Hogwarts as our parents began to make lists of what all we would need for our first year.

"Brooms," we made sure to tell them. We needed new brooms because we were going to try out for the House Quidditch team, and we were going to secure our spots. We would get top marks in all our classes, easily becoming Prefects and then on to Head Boy and Head Girl. We would be unstoppable, the Potter twins.

At ten years and three-hundred-sixty-three days old, we didn't know any better. We didn't know how airy our plans were. We only knew that we had always been together and going off to school wouldn't change that. If anything, it was going to solidify our bond even more.

For four years, Hogwarts had been everything James and I could have ever dreamed. We both made the Gryffindor House Quidditch team as first years, however, we were reserve players. But we were on the team! Chasers, the both of us.

This is not saying that it was always easy, because it wasn't. The place that was meant to cement our affinity for each other instead put a thick wedge between us. One that James was oblivious to, as he always had been. Not me, though. I had seen the wedge, felt the sharp stick of it in my gut for years. I had pushed it away, but it always came back. Having James at my side for everything was my life. When it was good, it was great. When it was bad, the shadow of my brother put such a darkness on my life, I couldn't see. And there really was a time when I could not see.

Growing up with James was not the easiest of adventures, I must admit. My brother was a star, a bright light that never dimmed, only growing stronger. He had the rare ability to outshine everyone, even myself. He did not do it on purpose, no, James could never. That was just the kind of person my brother was. A star. Someone destined for greatness. The world would be shouting his name long after he was gone.

Just like I knew about the wedge, I knew that I was the unplanned one. The shocking, yet pleasant surprise our parents weren't ready for. They had tried and tried and tried for one child and somehow ended up with two. Now really, there was no sure way of knowing which of us was the desired miracle baby, but I knew it was James. How could it not be?

James and I did a lot of things together. We were born together (we don't know which is older, but I suspect it's him), we got our first teeth together (mine on the bottom and his on the top), took our first steps together (and fell down together too), flew brooms for the first time together (and crashed together too). James became the shining star of Hogwarts. All-star chaser for the House team. I was never behind him like I should have been, instead he kept me right at his side, as it always had been. As it always would be. A dynamic duo, they called us. Those Potter twins, so dearly loved and cherished by all. Perfect, our parents tended to point out. We were perfect.

We were fourteen when our perfection came to an end. Mistakes were made, mainly on my part. Mostly on my part, I admit. Maybe if I hadn't gone to the library that day or had remembered my essay. Or if I had taken someone with me instead of going off alone. Maybe. If. Life is full of regrets and things you wish you could take back or undo. My first wish came at fourteen and I wonder how different things would be now.

James and I started our lives together after school. We both got married to the ones we loved. We both had to grow up when we were still children. We had our own children, small and innocent little ones born into a world of hate and war.

My brother, the star of life, liked to be ahead of everyone else. He had always been faster than me, at everything. He had things to get done and he wanted them done quickly. So, I wasn't really surprised when he did one thing without me. It was the worst thing he could have done. It ruined me, snatched my heart from my chest and left me to die on my own.

He left first.

There was no goodbye, no warning. Nothing would have prepared me for the sharp and cruel pain, the hole left in me that would never again be filled. It was the one thing I had never given any thought to, but I had always assumed we would do together. We did everything together. And yet this one thing, he did without me.

He died.


	2. Chapter 1: A Sore Sight

Chapter One: A Sore Sight

* * *

Five months. That was how long I sat in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. What a miserable place to spend five months, I have to say. Especially when there is a bandage wrapped so tightly around your head to cover your eyes, you can't see. Granted, even without the bandage, I still wouldn't have been able to see.

I kept my mouth shut when the Aurors came, asking a million questions a minute. What were you doing in the library? Why were you alone? Who attacked you? Are you sure you don't remember? I kept my mouth shut when my parents asked, my father's voice tired, my mother's stringent with fear. Hogwarts was supposed to be safe, and there I sat, cursed to blindness.

The moment that shaped my entire existence after that point was when James asked the same questions everyone else had badgered me with for two days. We were alone for the first time and his words had been full of that quiet determination, reserved for moments like this. My brother was brash. He had a brain worth vaults of Galleons, but he didn't use it most of the time. If I had relayed my secret of the truth to him, James would have done something worth a one-way ticket to Azkaban. There was no doubt in my mind.

That was the first and last time James visited me during my stay at St. Mungo's. We kept secrets, the two of us. Only between us. We shared things no one else could have the privilege of knowing. We kept secrets from everyone else, not from each other. I believe that lie that came from my mouth was the start of a lifetime of lies we would tell each other and secrets we would keep from the other.

It was two months later when the experiments started. The beginning of a summer my parents said would be drearily hot. I could already imagine how James and his friends would meet once a week at Diagon Alley, marveling at brooms in shop windows and talking about whatever they talked about over loads of ice cream at Fortescue's. They would be basking in the wonder of being fifteen. I would be in a bed, Healers applying drops of mixtures to my eyes and pouring potions down my throat.

I had to keep count, it was the only way I could keep my sanity about me. By the time experiment fifteen came around, my hope was withering. By experiment forty-seven, my parents were giving up. My parents, who had tried for decades for a child, armed with the patience of saints, saw no hope for my sight. When my mother continued to insist that the next one would work, her voice void of any emotion, I knew I was doomed.

And then, experiment sixty-two. The miracle. Just like all the ones that had come after fifteen, I was sure it was another hopeless attempt, it wasn't the miracle potion that would restore my sight and restore my life as one of the perfect Potter twins.

It took two days. Two days after, I had woken up. Eyes open, spots of color dancing against a black abyss. Day three, things were blurred into sight. I could make out my mother and father from the Healers, the vase full of flowers on the table next to my bed. Per my mother, I knew the arrangement had been dropped off by Sirius during one of his many visits.

How messed up is that? My own brother couldn't come see me, but his best friends had managed to visit. One had come bearing gifts.

A week after sixty-two, I could see. I was subject to hourly check-ups, Healers making sure my eyes were responsive to bright lights and variations of movement. They were wary, we all were. It had been a miracle, and no one wanted to miss anything that could be wrong. No mistakes could be made.

Three weeks later, I was on my way home. I was still subject to check-ups, weekly instead of on the hour. If the Healers thought my eyes were still good by the middle of August, I would be cleared to go back to school for my fifth year. From there, Madam Pomfrey would conduct my weekly check-ups.

My eyesight was back, and with it, normalcy.

"Are you ready to go inside?" My mother did not have a stern voice. She had never been the one to raise her voice when reprimanding us as children. Now, her voice was softer than ever, insistent and worrisome. Before, she had never worried much. There was exhaustion behind it all. Fretful had been her state of mind the past three days as she packed up my room at St. Mungo's. She had not sleep during that time, nothing could be left behind. We would never be stepping foot in that place again, she assured me. It sounded more like she was assuring herself.

The sunlight that managed its way into the car was bright, too much so for my own comfort. I had been given a pair of protective glasses upon my departure. So darkly tinted, my world was basked in perpetual night. There would be no more chances taken with my eyes, not anymore. Five months of not seeing was more than enough for me.

"Mia? Did you hear me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, turning my head to look out the window of the car. My heart swelled several sizes at the sight of our home, my chest now too small to contain the love of the place that had molded me. There had been countless times I had tried to picture it while lying in my hospital bed, afraid I would never again see the place where so many of my happiest memories came from.

We lived in a modest manor estate, nestled back in the countryside. It was nice, something you would have seen in a children's book. Surrounded by shrubs and flowers, wide windows and vines crawling over the exterior walls. My favorite part of the entire estate was the back lawn. A wide and spacious area that provided plenty of room for a makeshift game of Quidditch.

When James and I were six, our father built a Quidditch pitch on the back lawn. A smaller version of the one that existed at Hogwarts, complete with two sets of goals and a seating area. Whenever we weren't doing our schooling, we could be found on our pitch, whizzing around on toy brooms.

"Amelia."

I blinked, lazily turning back to my mother. She was turned around in the front seat of the car, blue eyes looking at me expectantly. My mother was a beautiful woman, made of rosy cheeks and fleshy body. There were no sharp edges to my mother, she was all softness all around. Her hair had once been a warm brown color, now a fine shade of silver-grey. She had crinkles around her eyes and mouth, signs that she had smiled, and often.

"I'm sorry." My voice came out in a crackle. I couldn't recall the last time I had spoken. The past few days, Healers had spoken on my behalf to my parents and my parents had spoken on my behalf to everyone else. There was no need for my voice. I had regained my sight, but at the cost of my words. "I was just…I was admiring the house. I had forgotten how beautiful it was."

Not for the first time, a tight smile clenched itself on my mother's face. Her smiles were less of happiness these days, more forced content than anything. "Right, well, let's go inside. The boys are waiting. They've made lunch." She began her prattling of how she hoped I was hungry because the boys had worked tirelessly on preparing lunch. A quick once-over of my body and another clenched look, she went on to complain of how I had hardly eaten the past few months and I needed to increase my appetite now that I was home. I looked too sickly for someone so healthy.

My thoughts remained focus on whatever disaster awaited me inside. Mum and Dad had left the boys alone for hours, in the kitchen, to prepare food. Four fifteen-year-old boys left in charge of an entire house. I wouldn't have cared if I got inside and the house was a wreck and all the food had burned. I was going to see my boys again.

"Fleamont, will you get Mia's bags and take them inside? I'll get her inside and with the boys." I could see, yet I was incapable of walking into my house without assistance from my mother. The constant fretting over my well-being was becoming more and more unwelcome the longer I stayed out of the hospital.

"Of course, dear." My parents had a relationship unlike that of many other parents I had heard of. They loved each other to a point where it was nearly sickening. My mother need only suggest something, and my father was already on his way to fulfilling it. I called it love. James called it being wrapped around Mum's finger.

A new look molded itself on my mother's face as my father disappeared to the back of the car. "Ready?" She asked. We had gotten out of the car and her arm was folded protectively over my shoulders, hand gripped down on my shoulder. "I know the boys are so excited to see you. Especially Sirius." The lilt in her voice, the glint in her eyes, it was obvious where her thoughts had moved to.

Mum liked to explore the idea that Sirius, James' closest friend, fancied me. It had started after he brought the flowers. She was unrelenting in this belief. I, however, knew better. There was no truth to my mother's delusions. Sirius was…well, he was Sirius. Never actually serious about anything. Except maybe his hair.

For the first time in five months, I walked into my house. My mother at my side and my father trailing behind us with all my luggage. She swung the door open, allowing me to pass through first.

The foyer was occupied by four boys, each dressed nicer than summer holidays typically allowed. Pressed shirts, their "good" pants, shined shoes. The banner they held stretched across them, James on one end and Sirius on the other. In Peter's curved script, "Welcome Home, Mia!" was written. Hot tears pricked my eyes and I promised myself I would not cry.

James dropped his end of the banner, the old bed sheet falling sadly to the floor. He rushed toward me, engulfing me in one of the most smothering hugs I had ever endured. For someone who had neglected to visit me for five months, he acted quite happy to see me. "Welcome home." His voice was muffled.

I hugged him tighter upon hearing his words. The hardness inside me faded away at the pain in his voice. I couldn't remember a time when I had been happier to hug him. I knew for a fact that I had never been happier to see him, because I could see. "I missed you, Jam." On instinct, he groaned at the nickname I hadn't used in several years.

He pulled away from me, holding me out at arms-length. Inspecting. I did the same.

It was like seeing him for the very first time. Black hair that never seemed to lie flat, warm hazel eyes that he had gotten from Mum. He was taller than I remembered. His face had thinned a bit, he was getting older. And he wore glasses. My brother did not wear glasses.

I knew he saw a similar version of himself when he looked at me. We shared the same dark hair and hazel eyes. We were both thin and tall, ideal Chasers, as so many people had said. Once, we had been the same height but now he had a few inches on me.

"We made an agreement about the use of that name." He muttered. The agreement had been made when we were eleven and about to step onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time.

"These are new." I reached out, my finger brushing against the circular rim of his glasses. "You just had to look like me, didn't you?"

He grinned sideways as my hand fell back to my side. In a similar fashion, he tried to reach for my own glasses. I took a half-step back. That was a line not even he could cross. "So," my voice thick, "what did you thickheads make me for lunch? I'm hoping for something edible for my first meal home, but my expectations are not set very high." Hopefully between the four of them, sandwiches had been mustered up.

"Only the best for you, Mia." James grabbed hold of my wrist, leading me towards the dining room. The table was set with Mum's finest china and her favorite cream tablecloth. Food adorned the table, a roast turkey right in the middle, squash, potatoes, custard tarts (my absolute favorite, if I must admit), and a large chocolate layer cake. I myself am not the biggest fan of chocolate, but James doesn't know that. He loves it and I love him enough to pretend to enjoy it.

"The four of you did all of this?"

James shrugged as the other three entered the dining room. Sirius swooped his finger down on the cake, taking out a stripe of frosting from the side. "Mostly Pete." He stuck his finger in the corner of his mouth.

Peter was shorter than the rest of them, rounder with a sweet face. He wasn't as outspoken as James or Sirius, not as solemn as Remus. "My mum taught me. I like cooking."

"It looks fantastic, Peter. Thank you."

* * *

The five of us had left dinner with full hearts and happy stomachs. Maybe the other way around as well. We had quarantined ourselves in James' room, Mum and Dad promising to clean up the kitchen and dining room. James was strewn across his bed, flipping through a broom catalog. Every so often, I heard the scratch of a quill as he circled another item. Remus was curled in the chair in the corner, his face drawn in deep thought as he read through one of my father's books. Dad and Remus got on pretty well, sharing their opinions on books and the like. I think Dad liked having Remus around, James and I certainly didn't read if we didn't have to. I mean, James' favorite books were The Tales of Beedle the Bard and Quidditch Through the Ages. I had, early on in my academic career, taken to reading my schoolbooks front to back and back to front. There was the incurable need to know everything, to be the best I could be. This mindset only applied to school. Any piece of literature was off-limits in my interest.

Sirius, Peter, and I had resorted to a half-hearted game of Exploding Snap. Peter liked the game an awful lot for someone who wasn't that good at it. "Hey." James' voice was insistent in my ear, his finger prodding into my shoulder. I glanced back, not wanting to fully take my attention from my cards. "I got you something." A grin settled itself on his face just as Peter's cards exploded. The small blast had singed the ends of Peter's light brown curls. Sirius snickered, helping Peter pinch out the singes.

"You didn't have to." I murmured. James rolled his eyes. I gave James my full attention. "But now that you've brought it up, I have to know what my glorious brother got me."

He let out a breathy laugh. He rolled off his bed and managed to disappear into his closet. Something clattered to the floor and my cards exploded. I dropped what remained to the floor, shaking out my hand. The tips of my fingers were burnt. "Merlin's left arse cheek." I muttered.

"Excuse me?" James' head poked out from his closet, an incredulous look on his face.

"Jeez, Mia, your mouth is filthy." Sirius breathed.

Remus' head had snapped up from his book, giving me a hard look that reminded me of my father. Peter had turned away, laughing to himself. James gave me a shake of his head and went back into his closet.

So, maybe my vocabulary had expanded during my stay at St. Mungo's, and maybe it wasn't in a purely academic fashion. There had been an older wizard in the room across from mine and he spent his days flinging all sorts of phrases at the Healers. Some of them had been funny, others had been words that could have made the most hardened of wizards blush. I myself enjoyed them.

Sirius leaned over Peter, tapping me on the leg. Dark curls of hair curtained his face and he swiped the hair back in a lazy, effortless motion. "He worked really hard to find something you would like." He whispered. "Even if you hate, you have to say you love it."

I couldn't help but frown. Sirius, someone who had known us for four years, seemed oblivious to our relationship. James knew me better than anyone. He was incapable of producing a gift I would dislike. "Why wouldn't I love it?" I replied just as quietly.

The smile he gave me was so relaxed and easy. "You're right. Forget I said anything." In a fluid movement, he returned to his former position and began dealing a new hand of cards. I looked over, hoping to find his eyes. Instead, my sight landed on Remus. Still reading, though Sirius was dealing him a hand of cards.

"Found it!" James' yell was muffled. He trampled out of his closet, hands clasped around a rectangular shaped package of brown. He sat down beside me, thrusting the package in my hands. It was heavier than I had assumed. It wasn't very large. Maybe our time apart had thickened the wedge between us, and James' had faltered on his excellent gift-giving abilities, producing some dusty book I most likely would never read and have to pretend to love.

He was staring back at me, brightly expectant eyes behind round-rimmed glasses. There was a childish eagerness about him, bouncing legs and gnawing down on his bottom lip. The Christmas morning look, I liked to call it.

My fingers were careful in tearing back the brown wrapping. Within moments, the package had begun to shift shape, transforming as I unwrapped it. The rectangle shifted into a slim elongated form, one end fairly thicker than the other.

When the form finally settled, my breath had caught in my throat. "James." I managed to whisper. I ran my hand down the gleaming wood, hot tears beginning to form in my eyes. The broom was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Sharp, glowing…perfect. Written in gorgeous gold etching just under where it said Nimbus 1500, was my name. Well, actually, it read A. Potter, but close enough.

I looked at James, a shit-eating grin on his face. "A Nimbus 1500? James, you really shouldn't have." But my hands had wrapped around the broom and I couldn't help but notice how perfectly it fit in my grasp. "I have a broom." It did not feel as good as this one did. It was a basic Nimbus 1000, the first model that had been produced by the still relatively new company. Even so, it worked perfectly fine.

This broom was new, startlingly so. It had, if I was correct, only been released a few weeks before. On his visits, Sirius had talked about how a new company like Nimbus Racing had managed to generate such a buzz over its third broom.

James shrugged carelessly. "Yeah, but you're going to need a new broom if you're going to reclaim your spot as a Gryffindor Chaser."

The broom nearly slipped from my hands. "What?"

"Holden Kettleburn quit." Sirius piped up. "I reckon he got tired of being knocked off his broom by the Slytherins." His comment made Peter chuckle. Holden Kettleburn was my reserve, only getting playing time if something happened to me. I suppose he had been pretty happy when my accident happened and he got to play full time, maybe even for the rest of his time at Hogwarts.

James was not as amused at Sirius' comment, shooting his best friend a look that could have turned him to stone. Yet, when he looked back at me, his face had softened considerably. "Mia, you love being on the team. Everyone knows that Kettleburn was just a replacement until you came back. I mean, he was an all right player and he got the job done, but now we can win the House Cup again."

James loved a lot of things. He loved the way Dad made bacon extra crisp. He loved the way Mum made the meringue on pies extra fluffy for him. He loved blueberry jam. Many things that James loved were food related, some related to Lily Evans, whom he had harbored a crush on since we were twelve. James did not love Quidditch.

He was obsessed with Quidditch. His whole being seemed to revolve around Quidditch. He would give anything, do anything, to win the House Cup. More importantly, he wanted to make sure Slytherin didn't get their hands on it again. I knew that they had acquired it last year after beating out Gryffindor in a particularly nasty match that lasted six hours. According to Sirius, James had been devastated by the loss and hadn't spoken for three days.

"You don't want to play." He said suddenly. No longer filled with the sun, his eyes had become sharply hateful.

I swallowed, lifting my fingers to touch the edge of the glasses I didn't need. "James-," I began.

Remus, ever observant and mindful of things no one else seemed to notice, spoke up. "Her eyes, James." We both looked at him. "I think she's worried about her eyes." James' eyebrows turned down. "Mia loves Quidditch as much as you do. And she hates the Slytherins just as much too, maybe even more."

No to the former, yes to the latter.

James relaxed, nodding solemnly. "I forgot…" Thick words made by an impossibly quiet voice. "You shouldn't play. You don't need to do anything that could damage your eyes." He told me. In his eyes, I saw the House Cup slipping away.

"Nonsense." I told him. I reached, grabbing onto his hand with firm urgency. "Of course, I'll play. I'll get some of those special goggles to wear during practice and matches." I thought out verbally. "We're going to bury the Slytherins and win the Cup." A promise I couldn't break.

He smiled uneasily, but he nodded, nonetheless. He motioned his head toward the broom. "I polished it twice a day for you, every day since I bought it." Whatever had just happened, it faded away and was forgotten as James went into intricate detail over the polishing process. He even offered to continue polishing it for me, if I wanted.

As James fondly recounted his process of counting the individual hairs of the broom, I met Remus' eye. Remus had a nice smile, though it was always accompanied with sadly tired eyes. I had never seen him without the presence of the dark shadows under his eyes. I smiled back, mouthing a thanks he would never know the importance of.

* * *

The creak of floorboards woke me up. Someone was walking down the hallway. Though it was nighttime, I slid on my glasses and crawled out of the bed and put on my house slippers. I poked my head out of my room, looking both ways down the hall. It was dark, but the door to James' room was ajar.

Before I could decide against it, I put my robe on and crept out of my room and down the hall. The light to the back lawn was on, illuminating the patio. Pulling my robe closer, I slid the door open and stepped outside. For early August, the air was considerably cool.

Sirius was sitting on top of the patio table, long legs stretched out on a chair and a cigarette in his hand. "Want some company?" I asked. He seemed to startle, his body jerking a little. He turned, using his free hand to gesture to the table. Letting go of my robe, I got on top of the table and situated myself next to him, pulling my knees up to my chest. "Got another?" I motioned to the cigarette.

Clearly surprised, he pulled another from the breast pocket of his night shirt and handed it over. He got out a lighter and lit it for me. I put the stem of it in my mouth and inhaled. After a moment, I breathed out, a hefty puff of smoke blowing from my lips.

Technically, there was no smoking allowed in St. Mungo's, but none of the Healers were brave enough to tell the crass old wizard in Room 453 that, for fear of his horribly foul mouth being used against them. I liked him, he was the only one who had ever treated me like I was still normal. He didn't dote or baby me or act like I was going to break or cry if he said something rude or too blatant. So, perhaps I had picked up a few bad habits from him. It's not a crime to expand your experiences of the world. It builds character, at least, that was what Mr. Orpington told me.

We were silent as we finished our cigarettes. There was something about Sirius that made every movement of his elegant. The laziness at which he drew the cigarette to and from his mouth, holding it between his fingers without care, it all seemed to be a grace that came naturally to him.

I put the butt of it on the table, resting my chin on my knees. "How's Regulus?" I turned, the bone of my knee harboring into the hollow of my cheek.

"Daft as ever. Hanging on every word my parents say, subject to their every whim. Their little puppet." Despite the hatefulness of his words, I knew Sirius would never fully turn his back on his brother. Regulus was only two years younger than us and he was the only person in their family that didn't vehemently believe Sirius was a waste of space.

I lifted my head, raising an eyebrow. "The two of you were on good terms the last time you came to see me. What happened?"

Sirius cleared his throat and I knew that something monumental must have occurred for him to speak so lowly of his brother. "Our parents started taking him to their secret meetings." In his words was the definitive notion that Regulus was forever lost to him. There was no hope for future reconciliation. He laughed quietly then, a harsh sound I didn't much care for. "You're lucky to have a brother like James, you know. He cares about you more than he does anyone else."

I closed my eyes, sure that he couldn't see me behind the dark tint of the glasses. He was right, James was the best brother anyone could ask for. The best twin, the best of friends. "Mhmm. He's great." I mumbled. When I turned, I saw that he was already staring back at me. "Did he ever say anything to you?" I asked quietly. "About…about why he never came?"

He sat up straighter, tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip. He did know. "No." He finally said. "But I know why. And I'll tell you, if you really want to know."

"Tell me." I said quickly. Only once had my brother, the other half of me, come to see me. Once in five months. The person I had wanted to visit most. James never came back, even though each of his friends had visited, Sirius on multiple occasions.

"He was afraid." Sirius spoke in a soft voice. He was saying dangerous words. James was never afraid. Never nervous, never unsure. "I don't think he wanted to see you...like that, vulnerable and broken. Seeing you like that would have been like a goodbye to him. If he never saw you, he could never lose you. You know James, he isn't ever ready to say goodbye." He took his time choosing words, each one said with assurance. He pushed his hair behind his ears. "That's why he got you the broom. It was his version of an apology, for never coming to see you. He spent all summer saving up for it and he obsessed over it for weeks."

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of James racking his brain over buying me a gift. We knew each other so well, buying gifts for the other was effortless. I could picture him pacing back and forth in his room, speaking madly to his friends about brooms and which one to buy. Sirius, clued in on my thoughts, confirmed them by telling me that James had spent almost two whole weeks trying to decide between a good sturdy Cleansweep or to go with the new and flashy Nimbus. Cleansweep was tried and true, but the Nimbus was bold and flamboyant. Not to mention, Nimbus marketed the fastest brooms available.

"And he wants to win the House Cup more than anything in the world." I reminded Sirius. "A good broom is all a Chaser needs."

Sirius shook his head in disagreement. "It's not about the broom, Mia, it's all about the player. You could be on the first broom they ever flew, and you'd still be the best Chaser on the pitch. Better than James."

My eyes widened. "Don't let him hear you say that." Treasonous words spoken by his best mate. The two of us laughed quietly before the sound died off, replaced by a comfortable silence. I looked up at the sky, stars twinkling around the half-shaped moon. "I never thought I'd see this again." I breathed.

"The moon?"

I looked over at him. "Everything." I told him. I inhaled a breath of cool air. "After the first few experiments didn't work, I was sure I would be blind for the rest of my life. I had resorted to being fine with it. And then," I sighed, "experiment sixty-two."

He whistled, saying that was a lot of experiments to go through. Quietly, I agreed. Another brief silence accompanied us, and I wondered if that signaled the end of this unusual conversation. "Take them off." He broke the silence abruptly. "Your glasses. Take them off."

My mouth fell open and just as quickly, I clamped it back shut. He was joking, he had to be. I couldn't take them off. "I don't know, Sirius…" Everything felt better with the glasses on. The world was just a little bit safer. My eyes were safer.

"Mia, you're wearing sunglasses. At night. Outside." He deadpanned. These were factual points he was making. During the day, the glasses propelled me into a darkness. At night, it wasn't easy to see much of anything. "I promise, everything looks better without them, even me." The smile he flashed was, dare I say, sheepish? I knew he was right. I could take them off and marvel at the brilliance of the world, unshaded by a dark tint, uncovered from a protective shield. "You can put them right back on, I swear. Just try it."

Unsteadily, I agreed. What if the direct light from the moon or stars affected the potion? What if I lost my sight again? What if this time, I didn't get it back? There were too many questions with possible answers I didn't like.

Sirius leaned toward me, slender fingers sliding against my glasses. Slowly, surely, he removed the glasses, placing them on the table with the utmost care. My eyes, once closed, opened.

He had been right. That was my first thought when faced with the new world before me. It was a million times brighter. I knew it was because the glasses had been so darkly tinted, but I felt the need to chalk it over to the sheer brilliance of truly being able to see again. I couldn't help but smile as I looked up at the sky. The moon had never looked as beautiful as it did then, stars hanging around it like confetti. When I looked back at Sirius, he wore a smile that matched the brilliance of the sky.

In the moment, I was stunned by his beauty, raw and unforgiving. The sharpness of his jawline and the straight edge of his nose, the cruel grey of his eyes. Sirius was a handsome boy, there had never been a question to that. Paired with his air of casual elegance, generations of fine aristocratic breeding did not go unnoted. "Well, what do you think?" He asked, lips moving unnervingly slow.

"Beautiful." I murmured. "Everything is beautiful." I wondered, if the night could be so beautiful, what the bloody hell did the day look like when it wasn't shadowed by my fear of blindness?

His elbow brushed against mine. "Yeah. It is."

* * *

The next week passed in a dreary lull. I spent the week being hustled through the house by my mother. My room had to be updated: I hadn't been home in so long and I was another year older, so she said. Bedclothes were swapped, faded purple exchanged in favor of a patterned light green. The frilly curtains were updated to a more modern and plain version. All was done with a few swishes of Dad's wand.

An entire day was dedicated to rehabilitating me to the home I had grown up in. Mum was sure I had forgotten where everything was. I didn't want to burst her bubble by telling her that when left alone at night in the hospital, I had dedicated countless hours to memorizing every creaky floorboard and wall bump in case I never actually saw the house again.

Before I knew it, school was due to start in two weeks. Dad had visited Headmaster Dumbledore at Hogwarts after I returned home. No one was exactly optimistic at my ability to return at the beginning of fifth year after having left in March of my fourth year. There were still a lot of things to be learned in those last couple months of school. I had missed examinations, not officially passing my fourth year.

Yet somehow, Dad convinced Dumbledore to allow me to return for fifth year. The deal was this: I would unofficially be a fifth year. Sometime before Christmas holidays, I would take my fourth year examinations. If I passed, I would go on to take my fifth year examinations at the end of spring term. If not, well, I'd have to go back to fourth year. Choke me with a vomit Bertie Botts!

"Mum! Let's go!" James was whining from the family room. "I promised the guys I'd meet them at Fortescue's at noon! It's nearly noon now!"

Mum and I looked at each other. "Son, how long do you think it takes to Apparate to Diagon Alley?" I heard Dad ask him.

"Too long!"

I snatched my purse off the dining table and went into the family room. "Calm down, jeez. We're going. Besides, I'm sure your friends could wait five minutes on their almighty leader."

He stuck his tongue out. "Let's go."

Mum stuck herself to my side and Dad did the same things with James. In a blink, our family room disappeared. The polished wooden floors became weathered cobblestone. Our vintage mahogany couches were replaced with people busying about.

Diagon Alley was an amalgamation of fire-smoke, potions brewing, and owl pellets. There were plenty of other scents, but it was hard not to sniff out the owl pellets. I saw a gaggle of girls I recognized as Hufflepuffs giggling as they went into Madam Primpernelle's.

"James, we'll drop you with the boys at Fortescue's and then we'll take Mia to get her things." Mum told him.

I glanced between Mum, Dad, and James. She could not be serious. I was fifteen! Sure, I had recently been visually damaged but if I was allowed back to school, I didn't need parental supervision to shop. My eyes worked perfectly fine. I had even abandoned my protective glasses.

By the time I got my brain and mouth to cooperate, we had arrived at Fortescue's. Out on the patio, Remus, Peter, and Sirius were occupying a table. The three of them were huddled together in quiet deliberation, each taking a turn to glance around to insure no one could hear their plans.

Sirius was the one to spot us, nudging the other two in our direction. "Padfoot, finally!" He waved James over to their table.

James started towards them, glancing back at me. I narrowed my eyes, shaking my head slightly. Please don't leave me with them, please. If he left me alone with our smother mother, I was going to shove his broomstick so far up his-.

"Actually, Mum, I think Mia could hang out with us today. Some quality time with us could do her some good." James halted, staring our mother down with intense eyes. "Right, Dad?"

I could hear my father swallow. He wasn't one to go against Mum. "James might be right, dear. Mia's been cooped up all summer. I'm sure it would be a nice change to spend time with her friends."

Mum opened her mouth and then promptly closed it. "Yes, of course. We'll go shop around and get lunch until you're finished up with your shopping."

Thank Merlin!

She curled a piece of my hair around the end of her finger. "Be careful. James, keep an eye on her."

He nodded, pulling me away from her. In quick fashion, he hurried me from them, and we joined his friends at the table. "Don't worry, Mrs. Potter!" Sirius yelled at her. He slung his arm over my shoulders, "We'll take care of her!"

I swore I saw her roll her eyes before they disappeared into the crowd of people. I looked over at Sirius, moving my eyes from his face to his arm over my shoulders. His cheeks flushed before he took his arm back, scooting his chair further from mine. "What took you so long to get here?" Remus asked us.

"You know how our mum is. Everything's got to be in prim shape. We went over our shopping lists eight times this morning at breakfast and then had to double-check them twice before leaving." James explained.

One of the order boys came round and took our orders. Peter got vanilla, Remus ordered strawberry, James asked for double chocolate for both of us, and Sirius asked for raspberry-vanilla swirl.

"You're not wearing glasses." Sirius' voice was quiet as he nudged his elbow into mine.

I nodded, turning my head towards him. James was inquiring about their back-to-school plans with Peter. "You inspired me." I told him. "Everything looks better out of the dark."

His small grin made my chest warm. "Glad to be of help." There was a twinkle in his eyes, a rare glimpse of happiness from Sirius.

"Sirius! Hi!" A high voice called out.

Our table quietened and we both turned in the direction of the voice. It was Esmerelda Broadmoor. She was a Slytherin in our year. She was pretty, long honey colored hair, freckles over her nose and cheeks. She and Dorcas Meadowes looked a lot alike, not unusual considering they were first cousins. Their mothers were sisters.

Next to her was Fawn Peakes. The two of them were hardly ever seen without the other. Something seemed different from Fawn that what I remembered her to be. Maybe she had hit a growth spurt, though she was still shorter than Esmerelda. Her sleek red hair seemed to have an almost fiery appearance.

"Hey." Sirius nodded cordially. The order boy came back with our ice cream. Absently, James dumped a handful of Galleons in his grasp and muttered something about keeping the change. The boy's cheeks flamed before he scurried back inside, no doubt to tell Mr. Fortescue that James had tipped him heavily.

"How was your holiday?" Esmerelda practically dragged Fawn towards the patio of Fortescue's.

Fawn's fingers were preoccupied with her hair, smoothing down the top and curling the ends round her fingers. Every so often, her eyes bounced from Esmerelda to James. He smiled at her graciously. "I like your hair." He pointed out. A bright blush crept up from her neck as she managed a nervous smile. "The curls looked nice too, though."

Curls! That was it! Fawn had always sported spirals of coppery red curls. Now, her hair was straight. In fact, she resembled Lily Evans quite a lot with her new hairdo.

"You think so?" Fawn giggled. "I used your dad's potion. It works wonders!"

James nodded thoughtfully. "Good stuff. Sirius uses a couple bottles a day himself." His crack earned a chuckle from Peter, who had already eaten half his bowl.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I do not. I'll have you know this look is all natural." He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing out the curls. "I just do a little bit on the top to slick it down."

"I'm sure you look great no matter what." Esmerelda told him. "I bet even your bed hair is cute."

It was at that moment that I choked on the little bit of ice cream I had put in my mouth. I dropped the spoon, overly aware of everyone's eyes on me. "S'cold." I spurted.

Sirius laughed, shook his head, and handed me a napkin. I quickly wiped my mouth of the cold dessert. How embarrassing.

Fawn and Esmerelda appeared to just take notice of my presence, having torn their eyes from Sirius and my brother. "Merlin's beard, no way!" Esmerelda gaped. "Amelia Potter, back from the dead!"

Not technically, but whatever. "It's me." I tried to mimic her enthusiasm. My voice just ended up sounding flat and sarcastic.

"So, you can like see and stuff now? You're not blind? Everyone said you were blind."

Curtly, I said no. "I can see." I could see how desperately she was trying to get Sirius' attention and how far Fawn was willing to go to get James to notice her.

"Thank Merlin! We were all so worried about you, you know. We thought about sending a card or something, but we didn't want to crowd you." Esmerelda told me.

"Because cards take up so much room." I noted.

James turned away to hide a snicker. Esmerelda's smile faltered. Her eyes flitted between Sirius and me. "Well, I think it's great that the Healers managed to fix your face. You look much better than before." After several moments of silence, she turned her gaze back to Sirius. "We should get together when school starts back. Go to Hogsmeade or something. I'm sure we have loads in common."

The idea seemed anything but entertaining to him. "I'm sure we don't." He replied evenly. "I don't tend to like girls who are rude to my friends."

She shot me a withering look. I wasn't really sure what I had done to her in the past. We had never encountered one another very often. Not that we would have been close friends anyways. She was close with Bertram.

Fawn was wincing, her mouth drawn together, hands balled at her sides. "Oi, Peakes, you all right?" James asked her.

She opened her mouth, presumably to say something, but all that came out was a pained shriek. "It hurts!" Esmerelda asked her what was the matter. "My head! It's burning!"

"Well, I'd say." Sirius mused. "Your hair looks like it's on fire." That it did. Her coppery tresses seemed a bright orange, glowing in the sun. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's a warning on the bottle. I don't think redheads are supposed to use Sleekeazy's. Makes for weird side-effects."

"No shit!" Fawn screeched. "My bloody hair's on fire!" With that, she took off running, her hands plastered to the crown of her head. Esmerelda, clearly exasperated, took off after her.

The five of us looked at one another before bursting into laughter. James and Peter began mimicking the look on Fawn's face and her little shriek.

Sirius tapped me on the knee. "Esmerelda may be a hag, but she was right about one thing." I hummed in response. "You look great."


End file.
